Requiem Of A Death Toll
by Kito-sama
Summary: FORMERLY Ichimatsu no Arinomama. A new enemy brings new danger, which brings new obstacles. When the group is abducted one by one, what will the Inutachi do to defeat this foe? Will they be able? Summary inside.
1. The Musings of Narakudanna

**Requiem Of A Death Toll**  
_By Kito-Sama_

**Author's note: **Woot. This is my first serious fanfiction attempt in a long time. The last time I tried for a long-running fanfiction last summer, it ended up horribly shoddy and lacking of a storyline. But I have one this time, and I'm going to try to make this one even half as excellent as the best MirSan fanfiction I have EVAH read, _If You Need Her _by the wonderful Scribe Figaro. Go read it—it's one of the best pieces of literature this young author has ever read (aside from my beloved Shakespeare, of course).

This fanfiction will hopefully be very long. I've wanted to write a MirSan fanfiction ever since I first saw _Inuyasha _sometime in 2002 or 2003, but when I read Scribe Figaro's art was the first time I was truly inspired, and I need something to do this summer nonetheless. This will be Ki-sama's first fiction about the wonderful coupling; my last serious fanfiction was about Ginny and Harry from the Harry Potter series, and that lasted a good eleven chapters, but I've just recently read and removed it because of how lacking it truly was. But what can one expect; I was twelve, for Pete's sake!

Unfortunately, I cannot give accurate criteria of what exactly this story will contain, for my style of writing tends to be more on whim than anything else. There will be lots of action and of course some fluff (as us "pro-MirSan-anti-InuKag" fans are so deprived of), but you will not see any _hentai_ in this fanfiction. Besides the fact that writing, in grotesque detail, about characters "doing it" is completely against my beliefs, it's also really quite disgusting, in my personal opinion. Romance is sweet, but such horribly written inaccurate sex scenes are disturbing.

There will be twists, there will be swearing, there will be blood, guts, gore, death and all that fun stuff, for it keeps the show along the wonderful guidelines that Takahashi-sensei has provided for us. If you're against the former or the latter, turn back now, because those are things that are used frequently in a good story.

There's not much to say other than that. Just bear in mind that I'm thirteen with no real Japanese tutoring and just like to write, so please be kind and rewind; I hope you enjoy it, but if not, gomen nasaiand that's up to you. I'm trying.

Hai, the entire summary was promised to you in the small summary, as such a small amount of words could not describe it accurately, so here goes:

…"_The final Shikon no Kakera is guiding the path of the Inuyasha-tachi, among many others in their world whom wish to gain its innumerable power, its measure of complete supremacy. But when one of their number suddenly goes missing by a girl presumed dead, what are they to do? Naraku is obviously behind this, but for the past half a year there has been no trace of the hanyou, and most had considered him also dead. But this world is all about irony and deceit, and who knows if he's really alive or dead?_

_Their number seems to diminish one by one, members disappearing at random until all are gone but Sango-san and Miroku-sama, until one fateful day when his curse goes horribly wrong—is it possible to go back and make sure none of her friends are murdered by the dead girl, and keep the love of her life alive long enough to defeat their hardest foe yet?"_

_"Am I evil? Yes I am.  
Am I evil? I am man, yes I am._

_As I watched my mother die, I lost my head.  
Revenge now I sought, to break with my bread.  
Taking no chances, you come with me.  
I'll split you to the bone, help set you free..._

_…Am I evil? Yes I am.  
Am I evil? I am man, yes I am.  
On the action now, I'll strip your pride.  
I'll spread your blood around, I'll see you ride.  
Your face is scarred with steel, wounds deep and neat.  
Like a double dozen before ya, smells so sweet."  
_-Metallica, "Am I Evil?"

Chapter One:  
Interlude One: The Musings of Naraku-danna

These days, hardly twenty-four hours could pass without a swarm of youkai attacking a village somewhere. The country was untamed, unkempt, and most of all, the demon population was greatly outnumbering the human population.

More of both were born each passing day—More demons born to demon parents, more humans born to human parents, more hanyouborn to a combination of both. More died each day; humans died of murder and natural causes, the youkaiwho killed them and would feast upon their bones, if the cruel, brainwashed, unforgiving sort.

As was the stereotype.

However, not all of these creatures were vile. Some were kind, gentle, willing to help their human counterparts out of a sticky spot, either through their generally superior battle abilities, or for monetary reasons. Some youkaicould reside in peace and harmony with humans, although no one is denying that racism lingered in the air, especially towards the hafu population known as hanyou.

Usually, this was not the case. Usually, villages were burned, their residents slaughtered brutally by the hand of an unruly demon or two, intent upon killing their human bodies, stealing their material possessions, and then moving on to loot another village in line the next night, lifeblood still fresh on their sword.

The half-demon Naraku was the main culprit of this.

Naraku.

_Naraku._

All of Sengoku-JidaiJapan lived in fear of that wretched name. Some admitted it and others did not, but all hated it. That accursed name…'twas as though a plague would befall thee whose lips the vile half-breed'sname fell from. The brave few that dared speak it were those with a debt owed to the dead, seeking revenge, a new life sought to fill the void of that which he had so effortlessly stolen away with a single blow. Families had been torn apart, people possessed and then their empty, soulless bodies resided in by the evil man, all in one single swing. The taijiyavillage had been a prime example of this, and some of this better work, if he could say so himself. The art had accurately portrayed the good—rather, bad—side of his cunning, his malice, his superior intellect; and it had been quite fun, to go without saying.

But Naraku himself was too important to _actually_ battle. Most of the time, he sent his worthless armies of brain-dead _youkai _to battle for him, others he would send his puppets, sometimes controlled by one of his bounty of Shikon no Kakera, other times simply infuriated by the lies spread by Naraku's mouth. Yea, that was Naraku's most prized skill; the ability to use words to get himself in and out of such predicaments that he found too strenuous for his own doing.

What caused him to do such evil things? It was a sport to him, so terribly amusing on a rainy day. Onigumo as a human had not always been bad—yes, that had been many moons past, but this proved that there was still a touch of innocence into his perceived truly black heart, if not only a small sliver—and yet, something had changed him. Something had twisted his soul, damned him to a life in hell, demon immortality living within his demonicflow, almost guaranteeing him an eternal time upon this Earth.

Regardless, something had caused it, unbeknownst to the people of Japan (or, rather, those who cared) what, and because of the actions of one or many, no one could go to bed happy at night. Even on the brightest and joyful days, where it seems nothing is wrong with the world, the sun sets and that little switch in the back of the brain turns on, adrenaline rushes through the body, and paranoia settles again within the very soul. In a way, humanity had taken this fate upon itself. It would be unfair to say that all humans caused it, but it is in the case of a mass-murder. A small child was picked on and his shell forever cracked beyond repair, black miasma leaking through it and poisoning Onigumo's brain with the conceit of humanity.

Only Kikyou had had the power to fix him, to save him, to make him whole—and he had killed her through the hanyou Inuyasha.

It was…it was almost as if he had been _scared_.

But no, that had not been the case, he had assured himself of such many times. That Kikyou temee had become endlessly meddling, and rather than simply telling her to stop, he had killed her. She knew too much! What if she had said she would never tell but lied, and all of his secrets had leaked out, for the world to see and hear? All humans were untrustworthy. Whether the purest miko or the darkest bandit, all were his enemies. He was now Naraku, enemy of the people, King of the Universe.

_Yes, that would have to do. Naraku-danna-sama, care for a human, and be jealous over that stupid inu? Nay! That temee deserved to die. She was too good for her own being._

His minions had stung the bones and egos of thousands in his lifetime. They were sucked into the Kazaana of a certain monk, and beaten down to nothing--ashes to ashes, dust to dust--by youkai taijiya, when the village had been alive. Only one was remaining, now, though, and that was by mere blunder in part of his men; though technically two were still here, if one was to count Kohaku-kun as _living_.

Naraku had seen this village as a threat to his supremacy, his plan for total dictatorship, for complete world domination. They were strong enough to overthrow him, to kill his minions, to rape his soul and destroy his castle. The taijiya had dubbed themselves as honourable, but he knew much otherwise. Demon exterminators were nothing but rotten scoundrels hell bent for slaughter. He couldn't have another rise against him, a rival, maybe even bear a loss to them. Yes! His highness was susceptible to attack once every month, and while he could change this weak point of his own free will, what if, bypure dumb luck,they happened to strike on this one night? Was it possible to beat such an entity? As a scrawny human child he had been pitiful, weak, worthless…but now as an absolute God, he was invincible. He liked the fear and indescribable terror and panic the mere mention of his name enstilled—as one "Onigumo", the other children had picked on him, his ogre-esque name, the pathetic torture his worthless human mother hadchosen forhim on his day of birth. The sordidness of it all made him want to cringe and almost gave the powerful hanyouthe need to scrub himself, but now his name was cruel and to the point—"Hellish Abyss."

And that is what he had inflicted the monk Miatsu with, a mere fifty years ago. A Hell Abyss. _Kazaana. _One of his better curses, admittedly.

This entire aside, there was only one true challenge in his path to dominance, this half-demon whom came to the call "Inuyasha." Naraku had known since he was the child Onigumo that Inuyasha would always get in his way. At an early age he had seen Inuyasha display such strength and character, such force and tact, without even a sword but through his _Sankon Tessou _attack, with those limber claws of hisThe unruly dog creatureconstantly said that he cared not for humans but Naraku could easily see through him, the way he acted around that wretched human miko Kikyou. Inuyasha was truly in a fight for good, even though he stubbornly denied it to all whom asked.

A trademark smirk crossed the Naraku'slips at the mere thought of it all.

_Yes, Inuyasha is foolish to trust his heart to humans. _Naraku would often think, alone in his "portable" castle. _It will be the death of him, mark my words._

Inuyasha was physically strong and mentally weak, and would thoughtlessly give his life for any one of that meddling grouphe traveled with, fruitlessly searching for the remaining Shikon no Kakera, often with no avail; that "shard-hunter" could be quite worthless and he heard it, it seemed that all that wench seemed to say was the demand "Inuyasha!" But they seemed to have fallen for each other, so take one out and the other would rush blindly at him, only to be taken down himself. Naraku already had the taijiya's younger brother on his side, and when Sango gave in, he knew that Inuyasha would never raise a sword to the girl—let alone anyone in that group, especially that so-called time-skipper Higurashi Kagome—and in turn, one by one, the others would end up under his brainwash—ultimately resulting in the death of Inuyasha, the gain of Naraku.

_Humans are such disgusting creatures._

Inuyasha traveled slowly, so very slowed down by those humans that he insisted upon traveling with. His older, purer brother was much more quick on his feet, and hence posed much more of a problem. Sesshoumaru could easily wield a sword, thoughtlessly kill any demon in his path; Inuyasha was reluctant, because of the human blood that ran tainted through his demon veins. Sesshoumaru portrayed the true power of his daiyoukaifather, while Inuyasha was at a great disadvantage with his mother's mortal side. Sesshoumaru was careless, thoughtless, cruel. Inuyasha tried hard to be as such, but after growing so close to his human partners, they had almost cured him of these ailments, as the powerful priestess and sister to Kikyou, Kaede-babaa-chan, called it.

Though however powerful Sesshoumaru was, he lacked the heart. Sesshoumaru, like himself, killed for sport. He killed for fun, he killed because he was bored, he killed because he had nothing else to do. It was all bloodlust, every last murder. There was no true drive behind any of it, and Naraku had a sneaking suspicion that the great demon was only going after himself to beat Inuyasha and prove his superiority, that youkai were better than hanyou, hands down. Inuyasha had a true need to kill Naraku (apparently), and being as good with a blade as he was though nowhere near as skilled as his older half-brother, there was still the small possibility that he might just do it, however stupid his reasons might be.

Naraku scoffed, surprised at himself. _I highly doubt it. I am superior to all others, ningen, hanyou and youkai alike. Those humans will be his downfall. They are his life, and without his gang of shard-hunters, he's sitting ducks._

A cruel laugh resounded within the hollow room, echoing off of the rocky walls, all within earshot cringing with the sudden looming fear of this wretched half demon.

Naraku's plan was ready to go into effect.

_Inuyasha will die. Soon._

…_Sooner than anyone will have expected._

Chapter originally posted June sixth, two thousand five.


	2. Dreamless Revenge

Requiem Of A Death Toll  
By Kito-sama

**Author's note: **Ahem. Yes. Chapter two. Beware. Sorry if it's not up to par with the first chapter; I'm sort of lost for what to do in between the prelude and the plotline I've created (on a secret stash of notebook paper that anyone that even has the outstanding ability to _enter _my room could ever find). This chapter will probably be a bit dull, so please bear with me; the rest won't be _so_ bad.

Chapter Two  
Dreamless Revenge

_My name is Tsubekami, and I am dead._

_No, I am not a ghost; nor am I a zombie. I am merely a spirit, trapped in the boundless chasm between this world and the next. My mind is alive though my body long dead, rotting in the earthen soil which it was buried in, fifty-six years ago. Fifty-six years ago, today. My grave still remains untouched by the living, roots and weeds twining themselves around my small, meager grave marker._

_My killer was the hanyou Inuyasha. That terrible hanyou was wicked, stricken, and power-hungry, with an unquenchable thirst for false revenge. It was a pathetic death—he broke my neck with one fell swoop of those gleaming claws of his. Why he did it, I don't even know. His loathing for humans was insurmountable from the verbal abuse he was inflicted as a child, and yet I am not human. I was also a hanyou—an inu hanyou, at that—and what he once considered an equal, a partner in battle._

_Somewhere along the line, that changed. I can't exactly pinpoint when or how, exactly, but I remember that awful night when the change, the final stage of mentality corruption completed…the night of my murder._

_I can't quite pinpoint what time it was; I just know that it was late, the sun had set a while prior. As usual I couldn't sleep…the draw of the night's sky was just too intriguing to my inferior human senses—it was the night of the half-moon, and my particular night of weakness. It was early spring, I think…the subtle fragrance of fresh cherry blossoms were in the air, the small buds on the branches of trees releasing the scent as they grew ever-so-slowly in the night hours._

_The moon…ahh, the lunar miracle, changing monthly in its courses and stages, to return to the sky as beautiful as always, every night for as long as Earth exists. It was big and bright as ever, but somehow different. It was half as large of course, but there was something other than this obvious difference hanging along with it…it was almost as if…a sense of foreboding was lingering within the air, warning me to get out, that something was not right. This was a normal sense for my night of weakness, so I pushed it from the back of my mind, unawares that it might actually be telling me that if I did not leave now, I would never have the opportunity again. But did I believe it? No. Trust it? No. My senses were always jumpy, especially at this time of the month, henceforth adrenaline was a normal feeling for my human state, and the cricket song always startled me, somehow. Eerie, I always mused._

_I never really knew to trust my gut, though I immediately regretted it when a ominous, looming figure with shining silver hair emerged from the shadows, grinning such a grin that could only be that of malice, and when I saw those glinting claws tipping those evil-looking fingers, I knew it was the end, long after my body had stopped struggling for precious oxygen._

The same half moon shone upon the oddest band of traveling demon-hunters to walk the land of Sengoku-Jidai Japan. The same blue lunar lantern provided a luminous path towards their destination, the same stars dotting the same midnight blue sky. The light was diffused through the leafy treetops and thusly created starry patterns on the ground, swaying like a young lovers' dance with each gentle breath Mother Nature exhaled.

A small yawn from the young kitsune of the group broke the peaceful silence, followed shortly by a ruffling breeze, shaking the tiny leaves ever so slightly. It tossed his ginger-red hair like a small child would do to their playmate, swinging his short ponytail held by teal ribbon. The weight of the endlessly long days slowly overcome his senses, the young fox-boy drifting off into a silent sleep from his perch on the shoulder of his surrogate sister, the miko Higurashi Kagome.

"Inuyasha," came her whisper, small in size but magnified umpteen times by the stillness of the half-dark night. "Inuyasha, I think we should stop and rest…" Kagome's voice trailed off as she pressed one forefinger to her lips and nudged her head slightly to her left, towards the sleeping kit curled on her shoulder. Young Shippou-chan was the picture of innocence (which all who knew him well enough knew was quite the opposite), his eyelids closed gently over small-but-keen lime eyes, his small chest rising and falling with each subtle breath stolen.

Not keen on stopping when they had hardly traveled much during the day, Inuyasha gave a curt nod and scowled, hopping up into a wise oak tree and saying naught more to anyone else for the night. He hated to stop his vigorous search—it was so untimely—and the demon blood that gave him life enabled him to go for days, even weeks on end without sleep, so while he feigned rest, he was actually watching the world's play act on it's constant stage through one slit amber eye, waiting for someone, anyone, to intrude upon his sleeping comrades.

_Then I'd get 'em_, he thought. _Any bastard who tries to kill one of my friends deserves to burn in fucking hell. I could use a fight right now; it'd break the fucking monotony._

Inuyasha had long since given up on pretending that Brat, Sango, Miroku, Kirara, and most of all Kagome weren't his friends. It had been months since they had started traveling together, and some sort of bond had formed between them, an unspoken agreement to stick together, all for one and one for all. Sure, Kagome was a bit of a whiner, and yes, Miroku was a sukebe bouzu, but resist as he might, they were his friends, and he would sacrifice anything, his blood for theirs, for any one of them.

Well, maybe not Shippou.

A small, hesitant smile turned up the corners of Inuyasha's lips and unseen, Kagome smiled with him, pausing the unrolling of her sleeping mat for a moment. She liked to see him smile; it was rare for any of them, these days. Especially Sango-chan.

Sango-chan had been worrying her a lot these days. After a previous incident with Kohaku-kun, she had gone into her normal somber funk, and Kagome worried that each time this happened, there was more of a chance that the poor girlwould take her life. Always so depressed, Sango was, and Kagome-chan knew that she wasn't afraid of death, to take her own life to ensure that both her brother and herself would be free.

_But she wouldn't kill herself before she did free Kohaku._

Sango was too dedicated to her brother, too far in to give up now. Kagome remembered how once Sango had tried to kill Kohaku and then herself, but Inuyasha had showed up in the nick of time and the sword flew ten feet from her hand, her sanity knocked into her as the wakizashiwas knocked away. How Sango survived day-to-day kept Kagome constantly pondering. If something like that had happened to Souta, Mama and Jii-chan, Kagome-chan could honestly say she would have given up many months ago.

And yet, this amazing woman had come to them from the grave itself, remaining firm in her ways and even sometimes finding the strength to offer a small smile to a weary comrade, persistent in everything from her quest for freedom to her small slap-fits with the vivacious houshi. What did she have to smile about?

Though in sleep, Sango _would_ smile. Maybe she was remembering the good times that she had had with her little brother, or maybe she was thinking of Miroku-sama. Quick as always, Sango had rolled out her sleeping bag and was already dead to the world, dreaming Sango dreams and thinking Sango things.

_It's none of my business anyway. Sango-chan would never open up and show her emotions and besides, she looks so peaceful when she's asleep. Why take that away from her, when that's the only content that she has?_

Inuyasha no baka was always so oblivious to such complex emotion, but Kagome-chan for one could tell that Miroku and Sango were falling for each other, if they liked it or not. There was always a hint of a smile hidden in the anger of Sango-chan's gorgeousmahogany orbs after a wiry slap or a stray caress, and there was always that little unspoken saying in Miroku-sama's afterward smirk—_"She wants me."_

_He's so cocky, _Kagome thought idly, feeling the welcome pull of sleep's waves on her waning, sluggish consciousness, all emotion soon gone from her mind as her brain rested, her eyes with it.

In sleep, one is forever free. In dreams, one can travel to the mountains of Tibet, see the rainforests of Panama, and play the stock game in America without fault and still be back in time for a quiet dinner with the family. Kagome-chan wondered, though, what was the girl dreaming?

**Author's note:**

Sorry this chapter took a bit of a while; I'm sure there will be longer, but some of you seemed a little upset that I hadn't posted yet. :Cough.: I only had six reviews last chapter, but I really appreciated them all. You're too kind, and I thank you for reviewing so nicely.

I might not be able to update so frequently until mid-August or so, unfortunately. My eighth-grade graduation is on Friday, and we're still in school until the twenty-fourth of this month. After that we're searching for a house, and we have to move by July thirty-first or go to jail. X.x

I'd appreciate your hospitality, but go ahead and yell at me if you want—I know how terribly boring summer can be without a few good things to read. ;

-Kito-sama

Chapter originally posted June tenth, two thousand five.


	3. Of Friendship Links and Miroku's Hijink

Requiem Of A Death Toll  
By Kito-sama

**Author's note: **Whew. This chapter took a while, and it's only three pages of writing. I'm sorry it's taken so long. It's certainly not as good as the past few, but I promise some action in the next few chapters. Go ahead and flame for this chapter if you wish; I just wanted to get something up so y'all don't desert me, I can assure you that if you wish, it will be rewritten by the end of the week. Summer's finally upon us New Yorkers, and as I have nothing better to do, you will get more fanfiction-love from yours truly.

Chapter Three  
Of Friendship Links and Miroku's Hi-jinks

Their path was leading them nowhere.

Sango could have sworn that she had passed that one fig tree with the claw-like boughs at least three times by now.

"Inuyasha, are you _quite sure_ we're headed in the right direction? I don't sense any jaki, and we appear to be going in circles." Miroku's voice said from somewhere not to far behind her. It was simply amazing how Miroku did that; he always seemed to say the right thing at the right time, almost as if to present the illusion that he was reading her very thoughts (was it due to his monk upbringing, perhaps?). Then, it wouldn't be too surprising if they had all been thinking the same thing--that seemed to have been happening a lot lately, almost as if a link had been forged between their minds from their short but true friendship. However, a lot of the time, Inuyasha's faulty sense of direction tended to leave them all wondering if he was included in their "link"; they all seemed to know if they were headed nowhere, _except_ him.

And unfortunately, Inuyasha was the leader, the full package, including the "my way or the highway!" attitude. The fact that they had passed the same fig tree with the claw-like boughs was certainly not unusual anymore, as so much time had passed with them together that they were used to walking by landmarks several times before actually getting anywhere. Some link.

"Feh! Bouzu no baka!" The uncouth hanyou interjected sourly, not turning around at Miroku's address but simply folding his arms in his haori coat. "Who's the one with the demon senses here? Me!" Inuyasha tutted in a disapproving way that was just dripping with superiority and he turned his skilled nose towards the sky, into the universal "I'm better than you" sign.

Well, okay, save Inuyasha. He was always a bit thickheaded when it came to such thinking things, as Kagome-chan would oh-so-bluntly state when he was being particularly idiotic, or if he was just being more dense than usual when it came to spying on Sango-chan and Miroku-sama.

After hearing Miroku's voice Sango cautiously moved her Hiraikotsu to block her bottom, as fondling the fabric that covered her backside was very obviously Miroku's favourite sport. Because of this, the unsubtle, sukebe houshi would never miss an opportunity to cop a feel, so to speak, and tick her off.

Or was it simply because he yearned for her touch?

Regardless, Miroku scowled inwardly but said nothing to further the point; the hand of a taijiya was swift and hard, and he had had enough experience in that to last him a long lifetime, however oxymoronic that might have been. A sharp_ whap! _to the head from Miroku's shakujou was the penalty for Inuyasha's rudeness, and when he felt the staff make contact with his skull he jumped, fists clenched, beet red face right in his attacker's

"Bouzu no baka!" Inuyasha repeated angrily, one strong hand pinning Miroku to the depressingly familiar fig tree with the claw-like boughs, its partner gingerly rubbing the rapidly growing sore on his head from the sharpened metal's blow. "What the hell was _that_ for!"

Ever the sarcastic man, the corners of Miroku's lips upturned into a satisfied smile, his eyes sealed in feigned meditation. "Hai, Inuyasha, you are indeed demon," he replied, one drawingly dark purple eye slit open, ignoring the rude name as he had countless hundreds of times before, "but who is the man with spiritual powers here? Me, Miroku no houshi-sama

Sango struggled to hold down a laugh as Inuyasha's large amber eyes bugged out at such a trivially obvious remark. The dog demon obviously wasn't in the to argue with him (though knowing he was superior in all ways to the lecherous monk); and as Miroku was released and dropped to the ground (bouncing slightly on that attractive bottom of his), small giggles erupted from the usually stoic demon slayer's throat. It was almost like a volcanic explosion, as she had kept her emotion in so long so often, but with such less force that it would be better compared to perhaps an ocean hot spring releasing pent-up bubbles from the scorching magma beneath.

Okay, maybe not that, either. But you get the idea.

So these were her friends. They were the oddest gang that Sango would ever have imagined--especially traveling with two exuberant demons, when her own profession was to slay the conscienceless ones for innocent, defenseless people, for a meager cash reward. It seemed as though that lifestyle she had cherished so had been long ago, many moons and ages, when it had not even been a year since her village had been attacked and burned, each human slaughtered so hideously brutally. Kagome-chan wasn't yet sixteen, Sango's own age, and had fallen down the Bone Eater's Well located in her family's shrine on her fifteenth birthday.

No, she would never have pictured herself traveling with such a mismatched band of companions. Not in the many ages of this Earth would she ever have seen it. And yet…it had happened. How ironic free will can be, and yet so horribly cruel.

_What an interesting birthday gift, _Sango mused, back on the subject of her dear friend Kagome-chan, feet moving forward as if by their own will in the direction that the others had started to continue in._ To fall down a well looking for your cat and ending up five hundred years before your own time._

Sango, daijobukaCame Miroku's voice from behind for the second time, again clearly slicing through her train of thought. He had gotten up and brushed off the many folds in the back of his priest's robe and was now walking behind Sango, a look of concern within that piercing violet stare. His eyes were sparkling in that way he did when his keen brain usually hatched a plan, thus making Sango her wary, alert self again.

Sango stopped suddenly in mid-step, placing a finger thoughtfully on the bottom of her chin, eyes focused ahead on absolutely nothing. "Hai," came her almost disconnected reply after a moment's quiet pause, the only sounds in premise being that of their partners' shuffled footsteps and the birds' cheery chirps. Distracted, she rotated her shoulder in an effort to remove the kinks from it, and then turned her head towards the baffled monk, lips sporting a small smile. "Hai," she repeated again. "I'm alright. Just thinking."

Adopting an innocent expression on that boyishly cute face of his, Miroku strode forward, grasping one of her delicate, petite, yet strong hands in his own large, mannish, tragically cursed hand. "Sango, let me assure you that whenever you feel the need to think, to bounce thoughts off of a comrade and friend, I will be there to be your muse." He said, his voice charming as ever, eyes still housing that mischievous, devilish, almost childish sparkle that seemed perpetually ongoing, except for when he was sad; his sadness usually dulled his beautiful eyes, and this was usually the only way Sango could tell if something was wrong with the corrupt monk.

That was certainly an unusual remark for Miroku to make; but then, Miroku was a kind person, if not tainted in the mindset. Sango was taken aback by his kindness, but when she felt the familiar caress of a hand on a backside and the familiar tingle up her spine, she knew that it was all just for no good and a loud smack echoed through the forest, the sound bouncing off of trees, scaring birds from said trees and making squirrels run.

Miroku half smiled, half smirked and touched the deep red, throbbing impression made by Sango's hard hand and said sparkling, deep eyes shone with three simple words--

_She wants me._

**Author's note: **Thanks again guys, for being so hospitable. I'm sorry this is such total crap, but hey, at least it's something. (As one can tell, I have self-esteem issues.) However, you can expect two updates, tops, for a while; our moving date is scheduled for the fifteenth, which means I'll be packing about half of the week beforehand, and moving everything in for about a week afterwards.

I really appreciate all of the nice reviews I've been sent. - It's not many, but it's still something, and it makes me feel good inside to know that people enjoy my works.

_Arigatou gozaimashita_!

-Kito-sama

Chapter originally posted June twenty-eighth, two-thousand five.


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